History of Tom Jones, a Foundling

  Chapter iv.

  In which is introduced one of the pleasantest barbers that was everrecorded in history, the barber of Bagdad, or he in Don Quixote, notexcepted.

  The clock had now struck five when Jones awaked from a nap of sevenhours, so much refreshed, and in such perfect health and spirits, thathe resolved to get up and dress himself; for which purpose he unlockedhis portmanteau, and took out clean linen, and a suit of cloaths; butfirst he slipt on a frock, and went down into the kitchen to bespeaksomething that might pacify certain tumults he found rising within hisstomach.

  Meeting the landlady, he accosted her with great civility, and asked,"What he could have for dinner?"--"For dinner!" says she; "it is anodd time a day to think about dinner. There is nothing drest in thehouse, and the fire is almost out."--"Well, but," says he, "I musthave something to eat, and it is almost indifferent to me what; for,to tell you the truth, I was never more hungry in my life."--"Then,"says she, "I believe there is a piece of cold buttock and carrot,which will fit you."--"Nothing better," answered Jones; "but I shouldbe obliged to you, if you would let it be fried." To which thelandlady consented, and said, smiling, "she was glad to see him sowell recovered;" for the sweetness of our heroe's temper was almostirresistible; besides, she was really no ill-humoured woman at thebottom; but she loved money so much, that she hated everything whichhad the semblance of poverty.

  Jones now returned in order to dress himself, while his dinner waspreparing, and was, according to his orders, attended by the barber.

  This barber, who went by the name of Little Benjamin, was a fellow ofgreat oddity and humour, which had frequently let him into smallinconveniencies, such as slaps in the face, kicks in the breech,broken bones, &c. For every one doth not understand a jest; and thosewho do are often displeased with being themselves the subjects of it.This vice was, however, incurable in him; and though he had oftensmarted for it, yet if ever he conceived a joke, he was certain to bedelivered of it, without the least respect of persons, time, or place.

  He had a great many other particularities in his character, which Ishall not mention, as the reader will himself very easily perceivethem, on his farther acquaintance with this extraordinary person.

  Jones being impatient to be drest, for a reason which may be easilyimagined, thought the shaver was very tedious in preparing his suds,and begged him to make haste; to which the other answered with muchgravity, for he never discomposed his muscles on any account,"_Festina lente_, is a proverb which I learned long before I evertouched a razor."--"I find, friend, you are a scholar," replied Jones."A poor one," said the barber, "_non omnia possumus omnes._"--"Again!"said Jones; "I fancy you are good at capping verses."--"Excuse me,sir," said the barber, "_non tanto me dignor honore_." And thenproceeding to his operation, "Sir," said he, "since I have dealt insuds, I could never discover more than two reasons for shaving; theone is to get a beard, and the other to get rid of one. I conjecture,sir, it may not be long since you shaved from the former of thesemotives. Upon my word, you have had good success; for one may say ofyour beard, that it is _tondenti gravior_."--"I conjecture," saysJones, "that thou art a very comical fellow."--"You mistake me widely,sir," said the barber: "I am too much addicted to the study ofphilosophy; _hinc illae lacrymae_, sir; that's my misfortune. Too muchlearning hath been my ruin."--"Indeed," says Jones, "I confess,friend, you have more learning than generally belongs to your trade;but I can't see how it can have injured you."--"Alas! sir," answeredthe shaver, "my father disinherited me for it. He was adancing-master; and because I could read before I could dance, he tookan aversion to me, and left every farthing among his otherchildren.--Will you please to have your temples--O la! I ask yourpardon, I fancy there is _hiatus in manuscriptis_. I heard you wasgoing to the wars; but I find it was a mistake."--"Why do you concludeso?" says Jones. "Sure, sir," answered the barber, "you are too wise aman to carry a broken head thither; for that would be carrying coalsto Newcastle."

  "Upon my word," cries Jones, "thou art a very odd fellow, and I likethy humour extremely; I shall be very glad if thou wilt come to meafter dinner, and drink a glass with me; I long to be betteracquainted with thee."

  "O dear sir!" said the barber, "I can do you twenty times as great afavour, if you will accept of it."--"What is that, my friend?" criesJones. "Why, I will drink a bottle with you if you please; for Idearly love good-nature; and as you have found me out to be a comicalfellow, so I have no skill in physiognomy, if you are not one of thebest-natured gentlemen in the universe." Jones now walked downstairsneatly drest, and perhaps the fair Adonis was not a lovelier figure;and yet he had no charms for my landlady; for as that good woman didnot resemble Venus at all in her person, so neither did she in hertaste. Happy had it been for Nanny the chambermaid, if she had seenwith the eyes of her mistress, for that poor girl fell so violently inlove with Jones in five minutes, that her passion afterwards cost hermany a sigh. This Nanny was extremely pretty, and altogether as coy;for she had refused a drawer, and one or two young farmers in theneighbourhood, but the bright eyes of our heroe thawed all her ice ina moment.

  When Jones returned to the kitchen, his cloth was not yet laid; norindeed was there any occasion it should, his dinner remaining _instatu quo_, as did the fire which was to dress it. This disappointmentmight have put many a philosophical temper into a passion; but it hadno such effect on Jones. He only gave the landlady a gentle rebuke,saying, "Since it was so difficult to get it heated he would eat thebeef cold." But now the good woman, whether moved by compassion, or byshame, or by whatever other motive, I cannot tell, first gave herservants a round scold for disobeying the orders which she had nevergiven, and then bidding the drawer lay a napkin in the Sun, she setabout the matter in good earnest, and soon accomplished it.

  This Sun, into which Jones was now conducted, was truly named, as_lucus a non lucendo_; for it was an apartment into which the sun hadscarce ever looked. It was indeed the worst room in the house; andhappy was it for Jones that it was so. However, he was now too hungryto find any fault; but having once satisfied his appetite, he orderedthe drawer to carry a bottle of wine into a better room, and expressedsome resentment at having been shown into a dungeon.

  The drawer having obeyed his commands, he was, after some time,attended by the barber, who would not indeed have suffered him to waitso long for his company had he not been listening in the kitchen tothe landlady, who was entertaining a circle that she had gatheredround her with the history of poor Jones, part of which she hadextracted from his own lips, and the other part was her own ingeniouscomposition; for she said "he was a poor parish boy, taken into thehouse of Squire Allworthy, where he was bred up as an apprentice, andnow turned out of doors for his misdeeds, particularly for making loveto his young mistress, and probably for robbing the house; for howelse should he come by the little money he hath; and this," says she,"is your gentleman, forsooth!"--"A servant of Squire Allworthy!" saysthe barber; "what's his name?"--"Why he told me his name was Jones,"says she: "perhaps he goes by a wrong name. Nay, and he told me, too,that the squire had maintained him as his own son, thof he hadquarrelled with him now."--"And if his name be Jones, he told you thetruth," said the barber; "for I have relations who live in thatcountry; nay, and some people say he is his son."--"Why doth he not goby the name of his father?"--"I can't tell that," said the barber;"many people's sons don't go by the name of their father."--"Nay,"said the landlady, "if I thought he was a gentleman's son, thof he wasa bye-blow, I should behave to him in another guess manner; for manyof these bye-blows come to be great men, and, as my poor first husbandused to say, never affront any customer that's a gentleman."